Well, that answers the question of whether Alanna remembers her or not. And she didn't even have to be sneaky about it. Daine lets out a brief, watery laugh, then reaches up to cover Alanna's hand with her own. "No, I'm not hurt. I just... I've missed you." She mops at her face with her sleeve. "I know that sounds mad." As far as Alanna's concerned, they might have only spoken days ago. Elsewise they'd both be a bit more stunned by the reunion.

Daine shakes her head and makes herself take a few deep breaths. There's every reason to cry, but of course Alanna doesn't know it. Daine isn't sure how much she should even say. The last thing she ought to want is for the Rift to take interest in the Lioness (or Numair, or the Badger, or anyone else from back home who might be strong enough to tackle it). But Alanna's a powerful mage, and she could bring word to Numair. If they just knew what had happened to her, maybe they could help.

Or maybe they couldn't. Maybe Alanna would wake up and find that her realm's Daine is safe and sound, and brush all of this off as a weird dream.

"You don't understand," Daine says. She lifts her face and peers blearily at their new surroundings. They're in a living room, now, normal enough by Manhattan's standards but plenty strange by Tortall's. She's sitting on a couch instead of the ground, which she supposes is an improvement, though she wishes the elephants hadn't gone. "I'm stuck in another realm. I've been there for months. Seasons." She almost adds that Aly was there for a time, but decides against it. This is hard enough to explain as it is.

She still isn't sure that this is the right thing to do, but there's no sense in going back on it, now. Even if there's nothing Alanna can do, it's a comfort just to have her here, talking sense. Daine takes a breath, spots a box of tissues on the coffee table, and takes two.

"This is a dream," she says as she attempts to clean herself up a bit. "But I'm in a city called New York. I was brought there by the rift. It's like... like a tear between realms - between all the realms, and there are so many, it's past counting." She glances sidelong at Alanna, wondering if she's believing any of this. "It takes folk from all over the place and drops them all in this one city, and none of us can leave without its say-so. Or without making it angry," she adds, remembering the fuss the rift had made after Andrew and James escaped. She's still not sure how they managed it, but she's fair certain the rift would have shored up whatever weak spot they slipped through.

Daine nods, feeling a bit better in spite of herself. "It does this - the rift does, I mean. Brings folks' minds together in dreams. But they exist in the waking world, too. That's where my body is." It's where her body's been for ages, trapped on an island that's too small and crowded and noisy. It's a wonder she sleeps at all; Mithros knows it wasn't easy, especially after she moved aboveground.

She feels a pang at the thought that Mithros probably doesn't know. If any of their gods could reach her, surely the Badger would have by now.

After a few moments' hesitation, she adds, "Sometimes it brings folk into the dreams before it brings them into the city." That's how it had worked with Aly, though Daine's not about to say that. She can't just not mention it, though. The Gift might be of more use against the rift than her wild magic was. If Alanna has fair warning, maybe she could defend herself.

That's about what Daine had feared. Aly had said much the same - that she didn't recall Daine ever vanishing. Granted, Aly wasn't much more than a toddler when Daine left, but surely she would have remembered. It would have been something they spoke about all the time, in all likelihood. Daine can't imagine finally going home and keeping all of this a secret.

Daine sighs, and her shoulders slump. "That's the part that doesn't make sense to me, either," she admits. "I don't know why no one back home knows I'm gone. I just know I've been in this other realm for..." she pauses a moment for a mental count, "ten months, near enough," she finishes.

It took Daine some time to realize just how lost she was. The Rift was powerful enough - and realms are numerous enough - that she could excuse how long it was taking. But that was before Aly arrived, completely ignorant of the fact that Daine was ever even gone. And she still has the Badger's token. If they really were looking for her, if they really were capable of finding her, wouldn't that have been enough? Wouldn't she be home already?

Maybe she ought to tell Alanna not to bother. She'd be sorely tempted, if she thought the Lioness would listen.

"I still have this," she offers instead, tugging on the cord around her neck until the Badger's claw swings free of her clothing. "I don't know if the Badger can trace it so far, but I never take it off."

She chews her lip for a moment, then adds, "Tread careful. I don't want anyone else getting stuck in the city on my account." It's easier for her to imagine the rest of the realm getting along without her than it is for her to imagine them getting along without Numair or Alanna or their majesties.

"Not since Carthak," Daine says with a slow shake of her head. After all that mess, she'd have expected to enjoy not catching any of the gods' attention for a while. But it's been so long, now, that if the Graveyard Hag tried to meddle with her again, Daine would be half-inclined to hug her just for showing up.

She turns the silver claw between her fingertips, frowning. "I know the Badger loses track of time, but it's not like him to take so long between visits." In fact, she's fair certain he hasn't simply lost track of time or gotten distracted. If none of her mortal friends know she's gone - and if Kitten hasn't picked up on it - is it really such a leap to think that the gods haven't noticed, either? Maybe Alanna's from a realm where Daine never disappeared in the first place, and Goddess knows how much work it would be for them to retrieve her and get her back to whatever realm she's actually missing from.

"I don't think they can hear me," she concludes, tucking the claw back beneath her shirt.

Now it's Daine's turn to gawp. "The Divine Realms?" she repeats in an incredulous squeak. "But I never--"

She snaps her mouth shut as she realizes what must be happening. Maybe she should've expected this straight off, but Alanna doesn't look older - not as much as Aly did. But she's from Daine's future. She must be. And that means she'd best stop letting slip things like that: things Daine hasn't even done yet.

"I--it was the winter just after we got back from Carthak that the Rift took me," she explains. "I don't know about anything that happened after that. And... beg pardon, but I don't think I should." It's enough of a torment just being away from home without also fretting over a list of things she could be doing if she wasn't stuck in the wrong realm.

Daine nods. "It'd only make this harder, being stuck away." That's not the only reason, of course; knowing her own future would take all the freedom out of getting there. But it's a good enough reason all on its own. So much time has passed since she's seen anyone from home, let alone someone as familiar as Alanna, and the collection of days seems to settle onto her shoulders like a weight.

She'd almost forgotten to miss them, she realizes with vague disgust. She'd almost got settled.

"How long has it been for you?" she asks, brow furrowed. "Since Carthak, I mean?" Has the same amount of time passed for Alanna, even if it was in a different realm? Daine's not sure if would mean anything if it had. It might be nothing more than a coincidence. But one of the many things no one in New York can say with any certainty is how folk are getting on in the realms they left behind. Maybe the Lioness is from the same Tortall Daine vanished from, and the Rift is pulling some sort of trickery, leaving a copy of her to keep her friends from suspecting anything. (It wouldn't even be the only time some Rift mischief caused a second one of her to appear.)

"Then we're not so far apart - at least as time goes." Is that good news? It feels like good news. Maybe she's grateful she doesn't have to worry about hearing too much about things she hasn't done, yet. Or maybe it's just a relief that she and Alanna aren't so separated by time that they might as well be strangers.

She hesitates before asking her next question. It's fair foolish; what she wants to know is how folk have been getting along without her, and they haven't been. More to the point, she shouldn't be asking for details, anyway. But she can't quite help herself. "How's everyone faring?" she asks, peeking over at Alanna, almost shyly. "I don't need to know details, but..."

But she hasn't seen anyone in months, and even if she can't know details, at least she could know if everyone all right.

It's not a very satisfying answer, but it's also no more than Daine ought to hear. She doubts any answer would satisfy her, anyway; she'd be satisfied by going home and seeing everyone properly.

Even that would be bittersweet. She's made friends in New York, too - dear ones that she doesn't want to lose.

Daine's gaze sharpens a little at the news of Scanra. "Nothing you can't sort," she says, half-guessing. Not that there's a thing she could do to help, regardless.

Daine nods a bit dully. She knows there's no use fretting about it. They've handled plenty without her help in the past, and she can't offer them any, now. All she can do is trust that they'll manage without her (or without her her, this her, and she feels a sudden stab of envy for this other Daine, copy or not, who gets to go about living her proper life in her proper realm).

She pulls in a breath, though she isn't entirely sure what she ought to say. Sometimes, conversations in Manhattan feel like crossing a frozen-over river: trying to avoid thin ice, trying not to slip up. It's only natural, what with so many folk being from realms with no magic, or natives of Manhattan not necessarily looking kindly on rifties.

It feels far less natural now, with Alanna. Daine shouldn't have to watch herself around her friend.

It's almost a relief when the scenery abruptly shifts. The living room melts away, replaced by a rain-slicked city street. Manhattan, or near enough by Daine's reckoning. She lurches a little at the loss of the couch beneath her, but manages to right herself without sitting down on the wet pavement. Looking to the Lioness, she says, "This is what it's like, the new realm I'm in." There's a flash of headlights and a hiss of tires, and she hastily adds, "I should probably warn you about cars."